


The Spelling Towel

by Watergirl1968



Series: Eremin Week II [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Universe, Eremin Week II, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 16:04:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1654448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watergirl1968/pseuds/Watergirl1968
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin is injured in a skirmish. Eren waits with his fallen loved one for help, flashing back to the first time he ever saw the small blond boy at the duck pond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spelling Towel

**Author's Note:**

> This little fic is for Eremin Week II. May 18 prompt is 'First Meet'. Prompts at: http://burpingstars.tumblr.com/post/85108497421/calling-all-ereminions-eremin-week-ii-will-be
> 
> Warning for injury/bleeding.

**SHIGANSHINA DISTRICT - 850**

The icehouse roof was rotten. It had held Armin's weight, but when first Eren and then Mikasa landed on it, a section of clay tiles caved in and they tumbled into the dark confines. Outside, the battle raged. In peacetime, the icehouse had housed ice blocks, which were delivered by horse and cart, and the walls were thick limestone. Packed in sawdust, the ice would have lasted a good while. 

Armin had no idea how he'd managed to get free from the titan's grip. It had been his good fortune that the monster had put it's hand in something slimy prior to snatching him. He'd been able to wriggle free, had fallen, and gouged himself under the ribs on a piece of steel rebar.

Now, as they huddle on the floor of the silent icehouse, Armin feels a sharp pain in his abdomen, and a hot wetness pooling inside his clothing. 

"I…I...Eren… _fuck_ ," he hunches over.

Then, hands are tearing at his straps and jacket. He grits his teeth to keep from crying out. He feels dizzy. Eren is saying something to Mikasa, asking if she has enough gas to go for help. Eren makes him lie down - _oh, it hurts!_ \- and be still. 

In the dank, cold half-light, Eren can see the whites of Armin's eyes and the sheen of sweat drenching his loved one's face and neck. The pool of blood spreading across Armin's white shirt looks black.

"Help is coming," he breathes, terrified. 

"Eren," Armin gasps, "We can't _\- ah -_  we can't wait. You need to make it stop,"

Hands shaking, Eren feels around, finds the hole in Armin's flesh.

"Good, Eren," Armin sobs, tears streaming down his face, "put p-pressure on it!"

Eren reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small grey towel. Without another thought, he stuffs it into the wound, pressing with both hands. Armin turns his face into Eren's shoulder and wails. 

____________________________________

**SHIGANSHINA DISTRICT - 841**

It was easy to spot him across the duck pond, pale hair gleaming like new hay. Eren had seen him twice. Eren was five and a half. The other boy looked younger, but when his father had casually strolled around the duck pond to chat with the other boy's father, the man had said that his son was almost six. He introduced himself as Ingo.

The boy who was almost six peeked at Eren around Ingo's leg. He had a small nose like a butternut and large eyes the colour of bluebells. Eren took a step forward and the other boy took off like a little shot, scooting around the duck pond.

Eren raced after him. Eren was strong and didn't tire easily. Still it took some doing to catch the other boy as they ran around and around the circular pond. The boy was quick as a little yellow bee, and kept changing direction, causing Eren to skid and double back over his own two feet. 

What finally undid the little blond boy was his inability to stop giggling as Eren chased him. Eren caught up with him on a grassy space and hauled him down triumphantly.

This was all the introduction that was needed between the two boys.

Two days later, Grisha and Eren stopped by the pond again, before dinnertime. The blond boy was squatting by the edge of the pond, nudging a little wooden boat on a string. Sunlight bounced off the pond's surface, making patterns on the boy's face and arms.

Sensing Eren's approach, the blond boy's head darted up, and with a squeal of delight he took off around the pond, over the bridge, past a bun vendor, around behind their chatting fathers with Eren in hot pursuit. As Eren reached the far side of the pond, he saw something fall from the blond boy's jacket.

He picked it up. It might have been a handkerchief, but was far too large to minister to it's owner's dainty nose. More like a very small towel that one might use while feeding an infant.

The blond boy peered back over his shoulder and came to a dead stop, eyes wide. He trotted back toward Eren, who was holding the pocket towel.

"That's mine."

Eren opened it up. To his amazement, the little towel had letters embroidered on the inside, in the same blue colour as the boy's eyes.

"Give it back."

The smaller boy reached for the towel. Eren held it aloft, not unkindly but because he wasn't finished looking at it.

"Stop," the smaller boy had gone quite red. Eren looked at him.

"Are you going to cry?"

The blond boy's chin flattened and he glanced across the pond at Ingo, who was engrossed in conversation with Grisha.

Eren looked at the towel. A frown creased his brow.

"Can't you read?" asked the blond boy.

Eren thrust the towel unceremoniously at him.

The small blond boy knelt on his heels and very carefully spread the towel out on his lap.

He ran his forefinger over the blue stitched letters. 

"A-r-m-i-n," he traced. "that's my name. Armin."

Eren's face grew hot. He didn't know all of his letters yet and felt embarrassed to be shown up by this delicate boy. Armin grabbed Eren's own finger, and placed it onto the towel, where someone had stitched a neat row of alphabet letters and numbers. 

"E-r-e-n."

"It looks like a baby towel," grumbled Eren, but he didn't move his finger.

Armin looked at him furtively. "E-r-e-n," he spelled it again.

Eren snatched the towel off Armin's lap. Armin looked at him for a long moment. 

Eren was the doctor's son, but clearly seemed to spend a great deal of time outdoors. His thatch of dark hair was a little wild, his skin was the colour of warm coffee and his breeches were threadbare at the knees. He smelled like sand and jam.

The sun was sinking low, and the boys' fathers were calling to them.

"You can keep it until next time," Armin said, rising. "Don't lose it."

That night after dinner, Eren spread the towel out on the table and looked at it. Safe in his house, there was no one to criticize him for not knowing all of the letters yet. But he knew at least three. Karla leaned over her dark-haired son, absently drying a dinner pan.

"E-r-e-n!" the boy pointed out correctly. Karla kissed the top of his head. She ran a long, slender hand over the little towel. "What a clever thing," she mused.

"Am I a clever thing?" the large turquoise eyes turned up to look at her.

"More and more each day, my love."

Eren begged and harassed Grisha to take him back to the duck pond.

"I don't know why," said his father, eyes twinkling, "you never feed the poor ducks."

Eren hoped that Armin would be there, and he was! He ran after his friend, waving the towel like a signal flag. The boys spread the towel out on the edge of the pond.

Eren's smooth brow furrowed. He pointed out a new word, "c-a-t!"

"Yup," said Armin. "My turn." Armin spelled out _f-a-r-t_ and the boys shrieked with laughter. They were there until it was too dark to see.

__________________________

**SHIGANSHINA DISTRICT - 850**

It was getting too dark to see. To Eren's intense relief, the sounds outside had quieted. Someone would come now. His arms burned and ached from pressing the alphabet towel into Armin's side. At first, the warm blood had leaked between his fingers. Now, it had stopped.

Armin's breath was coming unevenly, rattling. His mouth was slack, eyes half-closed.

"It's okay…it's okay…" Eren chanted softly. "Please, please..." he peppered Armin's cold cheeks and forehead with kisses, to rouse him, "Oh please….Armin, don't close your eyes. Please, sweetheart. _Don't cl–_ "

 

 

 


End file.
